King's Gambit
by oneiromancer242
Summary: Erik spends some quality bonding time with his currently grounded son. Dadneto fluffiness with a couple of tiny little bits that up the rating.


**EDIT : I have now put a poll up on my profile. If you'd like to vote for which prompt I work on next please visit my profile and vote away. Thank you!**

 **A/N : Though it wasn't a prompt, I must thank Ms. Magneto for the idea for this. I genuinely didn't intend for "Get Him!" to be anything other than a silly little interlude, but it turns out Erik and Peter had a little more to say after that fiasco. Enjoy! Also, Storm's suggestion must be credited to the MTV After Hours "group therapy" X-Men special, because I find that too hilarious for words.**

"What day is it again?" Peter asked, watched his father clear the little table and glance up at him with a look of strained patience

"For the fourth time, it's Wednesday" Erik told him, finally having the table readied and retrieving a box from a cupboard which he set down, taking a seat and watching his son for a moment, pacing the study agitatedly, "Sit down"

Peter didn't sit down. Didn't even stop pacing, in fact. It couldn't have been only two days since he'd been grounded, could it? It felt like a year. Monday hadn't been too bad, since he'd had all the cleaning and fixing up to do and grovelling apologies to make, but Tuesday had crawled by, and so far Wednesday felt like it had taken approximately six months to go by. With no opportunity to escape the Academy grounds, not even allowed to take his daily runs beyond the boundaries of the estate, Peter genuinely thought he might go nuts if he had to endure another four days of this hell. It didn't help that his head still felt swimmy on occasion, or that his jaw was throbbing and blue-black from – he now knew – running face-first into the side of a truck. Any of that would have been easily coped with if he'd had something to take his mind off it, but as things were he had been stuck here feeling pent-up and irritable and hungry and morose for the past three days. He wished he could get drunk, or that he'd managed to stash away some of those little blue pills, or that he could do literally anything to relieve the feeling of being confined with seemingly nothing to do. As such he'd jumped at the chance to come up to Erik's study and spend some time with him, but had soon changed his mind when he saw what his father was unpacking from the ornately carved box.

"Ohh, come *on*!" the boy groaned, "Chess? Are you serious?! Isn't that like, the world's slowest game?"

"Can you play?" Erik asked, ignoring the irritated tone, glad that at least the boy had finally come to take the chair opposite him

"What am I, fifty?! Could you have chosen a more boring game? No actually, don't answer that. I bet you could and I don't wanna know"

Erik said nothing, only carefully set out the pieces. Even Peter had to admit that it was a beautiful set, one half in what looked like dark steel, the other in some lustrous silver-white substance that the boy could not identify, and decided to think of as 'pretty white metal' for now. He picked up one of the lighter-coloured pieces, held it up to study it.

"It's Palladium," Erik said, "Very rare, very beautiful. I found the deposit this was made from in Russia"

"You made this yourself?" Peter was impressed, carefully set the piece back down – in the wrong place, Erik noted, "Wow…"

"I made all of it. The pieces, the board, in fact I even carved the box" he said, smiled fondly and ran a hand over the polished surface, "There's not a lot to do in Russia. It kept me busy"

He watched his son for a moment, picking up one of the darker pieces and admiring it, could not help but take the chance to note what a handsome young man he was growing into. Peter rarely sat still enough for his father to look at him properly, wonder at the change from the scruffy, long-haired teen who had gleefully rushed him out of his prison cell into this good-looking boy on the cusp of adulthood, shorter hair lending his face just a touch more gravitas, though his depthlessly dark eyes still looked so much like those of a child. Even with bruises painting painful colours over his jaw he still looked good, and Erik was glad he'd got most of his looks from his Mother. It wouldn't have suited him to be hard and flinty like Erik himself. At last he had set the piece back down, sighed, given his father an expectant look.

"It's cool, but don't you have any more exciting games? Like Buckaroo maybe?"

"Chess is a gentleman's game, Peter. Kings would teach their sons the art of war and strategy with it. It is one of the most complex and intriguing pastimes that men have ever invented. And you would rather play a game with a plastic donkey on a spring"

"It's slow. It's boring. It's for old people"

"It teaches patience" Erik countered, fixed Peter with a hard look that dared him to answer back, "Something you could most certainly do with learning"

"It's a mule." Peter said quietly, after a long uncomfortable pause, "In Buckaroo. It's not a donkey, it's a mule. S'not the same thing."

Erik found himself without an answer, simply looking at the boy fidgeting in his seat, worrying a thumbnail with his teeth, and had begun to explain the rules of chess to him. To his credit, Peter had at least looked like he was listening, only occasionally distracted and quickly re-diverted back to the game. When he was satisfied that the boy knew enough to begin, Erik carefully moved a pawn forward and waited. To his surprise, Peter kept up quite well for a few moves, then had suddenly said

"What were you doing in Russia?"

Erik thought hard about formulating his answer. Studied the board, hoping he appeared to be planning his next move rather than struggling with how much to tell his son.

"I was looking for someone," he said at last, "A man who hurt me, very badly. I travelled for a long time finding people who would lead me to him"

"And…."

"And killing them" he said. Looked up and held Peter's gaze, was pleased to see no fear there, "They were war criminals. Nazis and their sympathisers. I got the information I needed from them, and then I killed them"

Peter nodded, accepted the information. Took a few moments to think it over. His mother had once told him that his father had not been a good man, that he was a killer and a cold-blooded hunter of men, but she had never told him why he'd hunted them. It was a characteristic people rarely saw in the boy, but Peter would never merely take information at face value, would always want to know why and how and when, and though his mother had been unwilling to expand on the matter, he'd somehow felt that if his father was a killer, he probably had a good reason for it. Peter wasn't a violent person, didn't have it in him to scheme or to wreak revenge, but there were certainly a few people that he thought the world would be better off without.

"Quickly?" the boy asked quietly. Sacrificed a pawn, and contemplated his next move, "Did you kill them fast, at least?"

"Some of them" Erik admitted. "Others, not so quickly"

"I guess they probably deserved it" Peter said, glanced up at his father, looked away quickly from the strange look in his eyes, memories clouding them darkly, "I mean, if they were Nazis, they must have done some horrible things. The Professor says that we shouldn't stoop to people's level, and when they're bad to us we should be better to them in return. I'm not so sure that's what I think – not that I could kill anyone. Just… y'know, some stuff is too bad to forgive"

Erik was surprised at him. He had thought that there was no shred of such sentiment in his son, that his endlessly warm-hearted nature would lead him to forgive anything of anyone. Perhaps when he had been younger that had been the case, but it was different now. He'd seen combat, had seen what humans could do to one another and to Mutants. Perhaps he had grown a little more like his father over the past year. The thought made Erik a little sad, never wanting to extinguish the light of Peter's forgiving temperament – but nonetheless, a little realism didn't go amiss.

"He's right in many ways, Peter" he told him, "An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind. But I was very young then, around your age – and very angry. What I did then was not right, or just, but at the time it seemed both"

The boy surveyed the board for what seemed a long while. Considered how he felt about that, about whether he would ever be that angry. Concluded that he could happily hurt anyone who hurt his family, but that it still wouldn't make it right. Magda hadn't exactly raised him to be a pushover – in fact, she'd done all she could to fight for him, get him back into school, bully his coach into taking him back on the track team, even threatened the odd person who had seemed to mean her delicate son harm – he'd come to the conclusion by himself that sometimes, it paid to be smart rather than strong. Sometimes you had to sit with anger until it went away. Long years by himself had taught him that eventually, you could think yourself out of rage, and he wished his father had been able to do that too, but he hadn't. Now he'd have to live with what he'd done in anger for the rest of his life. There was a way in which he felt very sorry for him, and was glad that he had someone like Xavier around to help him chill out a bit.

"You two are pretty unlikely friends y'know" he said with a small smile, "You and Professor Xavier? I mean, you don't agree on a whole lot do you?"

"We agree on more than you think" Erik smiled back, and Peter was glad to see it was genuine, "And it doesn't do to surround yourself with people who have the same opinions. Nobody ever learns anything that way. We have to be challenged to grow"

"Like making me sit and play chess with you?" Peter grinned mischeviously at his father, "because honestly, this isn't so much a challenge as a huge pain. I do have an idea though – if I win best of three games against you, will you let me off being grounded?"

Erik laughed, regarded the boy with an amused smirk, and considered it. Came to the conclusion that there was no way that a lad who had only just learned would best him twice at a game that he'd been playing since he was a child and considered himself something of a master at.

"Deal," he said, "But you're still eating properly for the rest of the week"

"Aw man, really? Do I have to? I mean I like having lunch with you and all, but I think I'll puke if I look at another vegetable"

"It may do you good to get a few vitamins now and again. But yes, the grounding can be over if you win twice or more"

"I don't NEED vitamins," Peter protested, realised he wasn't going to win, and concentrated on the game. Silently vowed to himself that if he was let off his grounding, the very first time he was out of the Academy grounds he'd be heading straight to the nearest greasy burger joint. Truthfully he loved his father joining him at mealtimes, but the punishment restrictions Erik had imposed were driving Peter nuts, even if Hank assured him that with the supplements he was in absolutely no danger. That was the worst part – if he was suffering, at least his father would have relaxed the junk ban, but with the doctor's careful management he was irritatingly completely fine.

Peter lost the first game, drawing a satisfied little smirk from Erik as he set the board up for a rematch, allowed his son to go for a few laps around the mansion so that he didn't actually vibrate in his seat with the need to move, settling down when he returned for what he assumed would be another easy victory. Silence for a few minutes, before Erik had said

"What is the difference between a mule and a donkey, by the way?"

"Hell if I know," Peter shrugged, "But I know they're different. Next time, it's definitely Buckaroo. Plastic pieces – no way for you to cheat"

"I would never cheat anyway!" His father laughed, "I'll leave that to you, thank you"

"I don't cheat!... All the time" his son protested, knowing that truly he did use his speedy sleight-of-hand to give himself an advantage over others in card games quite a bit, but never when there was anything at stake. Annoying others with his ease of winning was one thing, but he wouldn't cheat if it meant others didn't have a chance. Not even when they were playing poker for chocolate. He made a couple of good moves, sneaked a glance up at his father who looked puzzled, clearly trying to think ahead and get himself out of the impending check.

"Did you tell Mom?" Peter asked quietly, "About what happened the other day I mean"

Erik shook his head, drawing a relieved looking smile from his son

"She doesn't need to know about that. She'd only worry"

"Did you worry?"

"Of course I did. Hank assures me that you'll have absolutely no long-term damage, but it's very worrying hearing that your son has gone completely off the rails. Given how sensitive to caffeine you must be, naturally I was concerned"

Peter gave him a strange little smile, put him in check, sat back a moment

"You worry about me a lot don't you?" he said, "You don't have to. I'm okay – but I appreciate I'm kind of a mess too. Hell, if I was my son I'd be pulling my hair out. Really though? I'm fine Dad, most of the time I'm doing pretty good now"

Erik struggled out of the check, only to be back in check mate within three more moves. Regarded the boy fondly, had to admit that he really was doing much better now that he'd settled into the Academy and found himself a few people that he could trust to be able to handle him. Though he knew how isolating a powerful mutation could be, Erik had always been a self-reliant soul and had never wanted or needed anybody to take care of him. Peter wasn't like that, he needed people sometimes to tell him that he wasn't totally unbearable, needed a little comfort and a lot of patience, and finding it had made a huge change for the better in him. He had friends now for the first time in his life, a circle of people outside of his close and loving family who would willingly spend time with him, even a girl who took his whirlwind emotions and eternal need to be occupied in her stride. At the same time though, Erik knew that those years spent alone had built resilience in him as much as it had hurt him and made him miserable. Without it, he wouldn't have been the same.

Erik studied the board hard for a long while, before finally admitting defeat and moving the pieces back to begin a final game.

"Calling that beginner's luck?" Peter asked, gave him a cheeky little grin that lit up his eyes with an impish mischief.

"I'm calling that you being a fast learner," Erik smiled back, "If you'd only apply that in your classes you could be our star student, you know"

"Bah, who needs a college diploma anyway?" he waved a hand dismissively, then looked a little more serious, "I'm not planning on going anywhere else. I could stay here at the Academy, couldn't I? Teach the little kids, help them out the way the Professor helped me?"

"Teach them what, how to steal skateboards and eat things bigger than their head?"

"That's an important life skill, Dadneto" he said, watched as Erik took his first move, "But no – help them train and stuff. I'll find something useful to do"

"I hope you do," his father said softly, "Of course, it's your decision. Didn't you ever think about joining another team though – perhaps with your sister?"

"Oh *heck* no!" he laughed, "I'd love to be with her, obviously, but I think one Maximoff per team is probably all people could handle. Besides, have you met that Stark guy? He's such an arrogant jerk, always has to have the last word, just a massive egomaniac really"

"That sounds… *familiar*" Erik gave his son a wink, received a huge grin in response

"Exactly, man. He couldn't handle the competition if I joined up" he moved Erik into check yet again, watched him look around the board in confusion, "I think this is my place for now. With you, and Angela, and the X-People"

"X-People?"

"Storm's idea" he explained, "She said 'X-Men' is sexist"

"But it sounds so much better"

"You tell her that. I don't feel like getting electrocuted"

Erik chuckled to himself, tried out a few moves and found himself back in check at every turn. The boy really was quite good, he had to admit. At last he had slipped up, and Peter gleefully put him into an inescapable check mate. Erik studied the board for a long while, before finally offering his hand to his son graciously

"I believe that makes 2-1 to you, Peter" he said, "I'm very impressed"

"So… am I not grounded anymore?"

"That was our agreement"

"Would I still be not-grounded if I told you Lorna loves chess and we used to play *all* the time?"

Erik stared at him for a minute, couldn't believe he'd missed that Peter had never actually said he didn't know how to play. Cursed his son's slippery nature and finally smiled and said

"I suppose so"

Peter jumped out of his chair, flung his arms around his father, then began a very undignified dance of victory that Erik could not help but be deeply amused by. Even if it had been due to a trick at his expense, Erik did love to see his son happy, and at that moment he looked ecstatic.

"I suppose you're tearing off into town now then?" he asked. Peter stopped his happy dance, thought, and shook his head.

"Would it be okay if I stayed for a bit first? Played another game maybe?"

"Of course. Shall I set the board back up?"

"No way" Peter grinned, "Buckaroo, man. You practically promised"

Though he had done so such thing, Erik only laughed again and allowed Peter to whizz down to the common room and collect the children's game that he was so intent upon. Approaching the study door a little later to consult Erik, Hank raised his hand to knock, but instead merely stood for a minute or two smiling faintly at the sounds of happy chatter from inside, deciding that business could wait and turning back to his lab. Turning back with a puzzled frown as he heard from inside what was unmistakably Erik's voice saying

"Not the hat! No no, NO it's too heavy! DO THE ROPE NEXT!"

Hank decided he did not want to know, and turned back down the corridor.


End file.
